_{[it's all she needs. her touch remains light, almost ghost-like as she touches a patch of feathers. some new, some older. she keeps it as such as she carefully wipes them clean of dirt and mud, and even straightens and smooths the heavier ones out. her thumb sweeps over a patch of black dots scattered across the inside of his arm, her brows furrowing. further up, she catches a glimpse of skin rubbed raw and red, no doubt where feathers once sat just days ago. it shouldn't bother her, but it does. the fool can't heal like he used to, so perhaps that's the reason why it does.]}

You didn't make the mistakes he did. It wasn't your blood that...

_{[one hand slips back into julian's, fingers curling around two of his fingers. the other remains by his feathers, along with her gaze. it's easier to hide how she's feeling if she keeps her attention focused on tidying him up to the best of her ability. it's only right, isn't it? she's the reason he took an old-fashioned dirt bath. occasionally her eyes tilt up to the rest of the patches, and to the ends of his wings behind his arms. he's familiar, somehow, but... only by word of mouth. he's not just a raven, is he?]}

Nevermind that. If you were to face him, what would you do? Throw yourself at his feet and beg forgiveness? Or try to kill him?